


New Year Gifts

by crystallizedcherry



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Day 2, F/M, Post-WWII setting, PruHun Week, Socks and Sweater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3171842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystallizedcherry/pseuds/crystallizedcherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On December 31st, 1945, Prussia got a guest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year Gifts

Hetalia © Hidekazu Himaruya   
_no profit is gained in the making_.

* * *

 

Once again, the disturbing knocks on the door were heard. He lost his temper, the winter was not even a reason for him to stay calm and use the time to cool himself down after the excessive turbulences and breaking downs that had ended with the disaster he had feared the most.

“I have had breakfast, Luddy, just go home!”

Gilbert didn’t mind lying, but the guest was relentless.

“Go home, West! I don’t need your potatoes!”

Again, the knocking was louder and the one behind his door seemed like start to get impatient. Nevertheless, who was impatient one here, as he retaliated with sarcastic tone, “Put the box at the doormat and just leave already!”

It was a silly game. Two stubborn people having a war of obstinate mulishness. Prussia eventually stepped ahead towards the door, not for giving up and admitting that he was lost in this childish fight, but he meant to win with blurting out loud face to face with his brother. Nothing and no one could disturb his own time for himself alone, and he would not let anyone.

“Didn’t you hear what—” he was frozen.

“I really want to slap your damn bastard face or kick you out of this house and lock the door so you will be fucking freezing outside, but you are lucky today. I don’t want to burn something that has just turned into ash.”

Prussia stared at Hungary in disbelief. He parted his lips to voice something but it was failed at first. He shook his head and later gave her a stern look. “Mean.”

“Yes, say a person who has just mistaken me as his brother and told me to go away and didn’t want to open the door even though what he was doing inside was just lazing around or drinking beer.”

Prussia snored and swung the door close but he was ceased halfway by her sharp gaze and her keen words, “I am burnt too. Your brother is, too. Everyone is. We are broken, we are devastated. We are ash. Don’t think that you are suffering all alone.”

He messed his already dishevelled hair. He grunted again and finally widened the door to let her in, “Yeah, whatever you say. What is that? Is the box for me?”

Hungary didn’t need him to give her permission of where to sit. She chose the single couch he had occupied before. He placed the green box on her lap, and stared at him. He was worse than she had expected before. He still wore his Prussian Blue uniform he was so proud upon and the silver cross was also still hanging there on his exposed chest—it was shown as he left his shirt unbuttoned, and the sleeves was rolled to right above his elbow.

“Is it food?”

“You are hungry? But you have just said that you have had your breakfast.”

“A person who needs food isnt’ always the one who is hungry.”

“But I bet you are.”

“Just tell me what it is.”

She closed her eyes, inhaling a deep breath. His house was no different with his condition. She could spot glasses of beer on tables, some even were under them and one glass was scattered as pieces by the door of locked room near the kitchen. His spare uniforms were the same, a pair of them was hanging on the door and another pair was folded harshly on the table. Boxes of lunch were left unclean. His boots were not on the proper place, one of the pair was lying far away from the other part. She found his ties were on the floor and caked in dirt also mud. Everyone was tattered but she could guess that he suffered the most severe injury.

Hungary squinted at him. In this bad weather, he only wore the clothes like that? Was he a masochist or his anger was able to heat him up even in this worsening winter?

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Meh,” he guffawed, “The cold was no bother to me.The awesome me could never get freeze.”

She could have used a sarcastic jest like, _but the whole world can beat you down and make you sink to the core, and you are forced to disappear from the world’s map_ , nevertheless, she also knew when to joke around, and she understood everything of him more than anything he concealed from her.

Hungary bit her lower lip for a while, before finally deciding to say it now. Now or never, now or later when the situation changed just because some silly voiced thought that might abruptly spilled out unintentionally (like, how many times had things like this happened in the past?).

“Happy New Year. Sorry for things happened between us in centuries ....”

His eyes directed to the box, then to her, and he repeated the first action.

“Why are you being nice out of the blue like this?”

She gasped, but tried to hold her disappointment. Probably he was just in his worst mood of the year—Hungary understood the reason, and she attempted to suppress the boiling emotion of hers with imagining what if she had been the one who tried to walk in his shoes.

“You only need friends to share your burden. It’s okay to be self-reliant but you, who have been going through the centuries and overcoming millions of obstacles, of course know the mean of allies.”

“I’m ... okay—”

“What’s the use of disguising when everyone has been aware of your breaking state, jerk?! What’s the essence of wearing mask when the whole world have witnessed your bleeding face and broken bones?!” she shouted, stood up and threw down the box to his lap. Hungary growled and balled her fists, but unexpectedly she sat back even though furiously, now on the same couch with him.

Hungary took back the box before he did anything to it, opening it hastily and revealing the gifts inside.

This was not the time to conceive another storm when they had just recovered from huge wounds spread on themselves and their people.

She threw the box carelessly and put a sweater and a pair of socks on his hands. “You may say that you hate me or I’m trying to be nice in the wrong time—after everything has occured and some things could never be fixed anymore—whatever. But I don’t want to see you be more awful because of the winter ... so, took off that dirty shirt and put this on. This is winter and you don’t need any unbunttoned uniform.”

He stared blankly at the gifts. He had mixed feeling; he was weary, he was so—yet he actually was so enthusiastic on knowing the fact that he wasn’t really alone and he still had someone good enough to pay attention to the poor him in his dark time,

Prussia didn’t know how to act or what to tell her, yet he knew that she could not stand this awkward situation too long. It was going to be either she taking back the gift or leaving him without words while trying not to mock him along her way home.

“This year may be the worst in your life,” she shifted closer to him, and gazed at him exactly on eyes, “But you can always make a wish on new year’s eve.”

He found her eyes and shimmering hope inside. He suddenly alarmed because the small gap between them, and he was aware that he was actually engulfed by the cold of stingy winter until she came to warm him.

“Happy New Year, Gil,” she planted a chaste kiss on his pale lips. Pair of flesh that seemed like having no blood streaming to the area. “Remember that you can always lit up the fire of hope for tomorrow even though your day was doomed.”

Hungary only left a spare range between their lips, and he didn’t want to use his brain anymore for this time because it only would turn the better into worse by the words he could think of, intead; he obeyed his instinct to grab her back of head and pulled her into another kiss.

One of his hand gripped onto the gifts she presented for him, like they were the matters he could depend his life on. Like they were the new light from a torch she brought.

In fact, it was truth.


End file.
